


Why Are We Singing?

by willowoak_walker



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:58:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowoak_walker/pseuds/willowoak_walker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From <a href="http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/post/132887753530/one-of-the-characters-hamilton-jefferson">this</a> prompt on <a href="http://hamiltonprompts.tumblr.com/">Hamilton Prompts</a>.<br/>One of the characters (Hamilton, Jefferson, whoever you pick) is suddenly self aware that their life is now a part of a musical and is just silently (or not so silently) freaking out and asking themselves ‘why is everyone SINGING and damn Washington, maybe you can take up singing after presidency.’ “NO (insert character) I will NOT harmonize with you!” </p>
<p>A little off prompt, sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Are We Singing?

“Did we just come up with that?” Laurens wondered as the last harmonies faded back into the normal bar chaos, “Cause that was impressive.” His friends looked at him oddly. “Never mind me,” he said, waving a hand vaguely, “I’m drunk.” 

Lafayette nodded soberly. Which was impressive, as he was very drunk.

***

“Is- is he singing that pamphlet?” Laurens asked under his breath, “I mean, where did he even come from?”

“Oh my G-d, tear this dude apart,” Mulligan said, poking Hamilton discretely. 

“Leave him be,” Burr said, sticking himself deftly into a rest. Laurens had to respect the man’s singing skill, if nothing else. Then the Royalist started over again, and Hamilton started a beautiful rebuttal in a completely different musical style which somehow worked. 

“Don’t modulate the key then not debate with me!” Hamilton snapped. Laurens just had to appreciate that. This Seasbury fellow sounded as if he was trying to run away. 

“For shame -” 

“For the Revolution!” 

***

“Damn,” Laurens muttered, listening through the wall to the General hiring his newest aid, “That is some serious technical virtuosity. The General should consider doing concerts. Also, who writes these things?” Lafayette looked up from his end of the table, making his standard concerned face. Laurens jerked a thumb toward the singers.

“You’re strange, Laurens,” LaFayette told him. 

“I’m strange?” Laurens muttered, offended, “I’m not the one who suddenly acquired an appropriate song for everything. Yeesh.” 

*** 

“We’re reliable with the LADIES!” Burr sang. Laurens suppressed a sigh. Why did people need to sing about sex so much? He just wanted to dance and chat. There was going to be music already, right? No need to do this.

Ah, well, at least the music was going to be good. 

By about five bars into Elizabeth Schuyler’s song, Laurens sympathized deeply with her. Helpless, yes, that was what happened to people around Alexander Hamilton. 

***

“Aw’right, Aw’right! That’s what I’m talking about! Everyone, give it up for the maid of honor, Angelica Schuyler!” Laurens had a pretty good feeling about this. No-one had started singing yet, except for the normal hymns and things. 

“A toast to the groom!” Angelica sang. Well, _drat_. 

Laurens sang along with the chorus parts, because why not? And then suddenly they were singing ‘rewind’, which made no sense, and the ball Alexander and Eliza had met at materialized around them. 

Angelica was a fantastic singer, a master of that fast thing that Hamilton did, and Laurens _did not want to know this_. 

“A toast to the groom!” Angelica sang again, and Laurens could hear the pain in her voice now, cracking along the edges. He resolved to get very, very drunk. 

***

Alexander had a lot to say about proper dueling technique, and he sang all of it. Laurens was actually relieved by that. It made it harder to be terrified. 

*** 

Okay, Lafayette was the _best_ at fast.

*** 

Laurens found himself singing “We will never be free until we end slavery!” in the middle of a battle. Inexplicably, no-one seemed to find this at all odd. He went back to killing redcoats. 

*** 

Laurens hurt all over, and the sky was turning wobbly and black.

He breathed out. 

*** 

“I may not live to see our glory,” Laurens sang. He rather thought he hadn’t. He didn’t hurt anymore. Alexander and Eliza moved as if behind a pane of glass. “But I will gladly join the fight,” Eliza opened the letter in his father’s familiar handwriting, “And when our children tell our story,” Frances, he’s never met his daughter. Or Alexander’s son. “They’ll tell the story of tonight.” Alexander’s expression crumbled, shattered. Laurens reached out to him. He could see through his hand, and it didn’t reach Alexander’s face. 

“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us,” he whispered to Alexander. A promise. 

*** 

“Laurens leads a soldier’s chorus on the other side,” Alexander sang, shimmering across the river, a half-visible shadow. Laurens didn’t understand how he could sing. The blood was running down his side. 

Laurens sang to Alexander until he finished dying. Angelica and Eliza were both at his side.


End file.
